[Originally published in the Front Range Voluntaryist, article by Richard Dalton]
It's interesting to me how classical free-market thinkers are often so obscure, while virtually everyone knows the name Marx and Lenin. And not only knows them, but looks upon their efforts with warmth and sympathy. Even those who admit the failures of the Soviet experiment will seemingly still want to defend the efforts of its leaders, or at least praise them for their supposed good intentions, as if this outweighs the endless misery of millions.
There would appear to be a wanton eagerness for socialism to work. So, given this seeming inclination, those voices which explain not only that socialism does not work, but also why it does not work, are naturally destined to be lost to history, presumably because their messages do not excite the imaginations of the people.
But why should this be? Ignorance, perhaps, but why should this ignorance bring with it a socialist impulse, and not some other kind? What is it that drives us to uncritically accept the possibility of working socialism, without any evidence, and without any need to do further research, as if we all already know how all this social science stuff works and where it must ultimately lead us in the end? Why is the case for socialism commonly assumed, as if it doesn't even need to be made? Why are the benefits of market freedom counterintuitive, and therefore need to be argued, while the benefits of socialism are somehow obvious, and can be accepted with relative ease? In other words, why do we even want socialism to work?
It may go back to the early influence of the family unit, which is both hierarchical and nurturing. But it may also have something to do with the way we evolved from hunter-gatherer cultures, where, due to the need for both social cohesion and physical mobility, the idea of sharing with the tribe makes sense, as it helps pool the risks of environmental uncertainty, while the idea of amassing a personal savings does not make sense, because one can't pack it up when it's time to move on.
These natural complications may have given rise to deep rooted, genetically informed emotional ethical triggers which work to discourage individual members from acting out of accordance with the supposed interests of the group. As such, there may be a natural tendency for market logic to trigger a negative emotional-ethical response, such as guilt or shame, since this logic doesn't begin with the needs of the group, but of the individual.
The human mind is capable of tremendous imagination. This makes it easy to imagine things that are both possible and impossible with equal ease. So perhaps it's easy to imagine a utopian society as something tantalizingly just within reach. What isn't nearly as easy to recognize as the desire for utopia itself, however, is the problems inherent in bringing it about: society requires mass participation, and therefore, can't be willed into existence by a single dreamer. The desire to accomplish such a grandiose feat may speak to an instinctive desire to return to the proverbial nest. There may be a dream of an extended family unit which brings us back to our inner child 's Eden.
I believe that the modern socialist impulse is informed by hunter-gatherer instincts. The temptation to act according to these instincts places modern societies in a precarious position, because it is not us who are mobile today, but rather, through industrialization and the modern market process, it is the things we seek which have become mobile, while we remain largely stationary: instead of tribals relocating in order to continue chasing prey, under Capitalism, goods are transported in order to continue chasing customers. So the logistical roles between consumer and consumed are now reversed. Yet on the basis of our instincts alone, this reversal of roles will not be understood, and the natural tendency will be to resist it. Yet if we want the joys of modern life to continue, if we want to remain in the comfort of our own homes, then the goods on which we depend -- themselves increasingly the result of ever-more complex processes of production -- will need to keep moving, or else we will be forced to start moving. If we fail to appreciate this dynamic, and call for policies which slow the manufacture and distribution of desired goods, while also expecting to continue enjoying the comforts that come from home-life stability, then we act in error: We will encourage a development in which a nomadic lifestyle increasingly becomes the only remaining rational recourse (as realized by all those in history who have desperately wished to "relocate" in order to escape the horrors of communism).
So perhaps there is a natural inclination to conceive human need in social/emotional terms, rather than in strictly economic/logistical terms. Of course, even if so, this simply underscores the need for economic education; our natural instincts might be to reject market logic, at least until formally introduced.
It turns out that, contrary to hunter-gatherer assumptions, we cannot take the miracle of market provision for granted. Unlike the growth of berry bushes and other naturally appropriated factors, productivity in industry is not automatic: Modern society depends on dynamic processes which can be either cultivated or sabotaged. There is a kind of vulnerability, then, in the modern market order, since it depends for it's continued development on certain understandings being widely recognized -- regarding the function of property and the value of dignity -- before it can function in the way we've come to expect, and continue to support existing populations. Those understandings, providing the foundation of countless social actors, become an essential component in preserving the very civilization on which every consumer in the modern world depends.